


Overload

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Age Difference, Bath Sex, F/M, Het, Pure Unadulterated Filth, Rare Pair, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 10:07:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8158357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: A long hot bath gets hotter still...





	

**Author's Note:**

> For lonely prompts week  
> Prompt : any, any, erotic dream

The ceiling lights are turned down low in the bathroom, scented candles providing extra illumination, as well as adding to the atmosphere. The water is the perfect temperature, not too hot, not too cool against Caitlin's skin, lapping just over her breasts as she reclines against Joe's chest. Her hair is tied up in a messy bun and every so often a tendril falls down, damp from the water and steam. Joe seems to take great delight in tucking them back into place, his fingers lingering against the skin of her neck as he does so. It sends a shiver down her spine in direct contrast to the heat of the water and she likes it. 

He shifts slightly and seconds later the air is heavy with the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle, the body wash she favours. It's one of his favourites too and she scoots down a little to give him room to manoeuvre, only to be greeted by what sounds very like a growl from his throat. 

"Get back here," he orders but he's smiling when he says it and the look in his eyes means she's not going to argue with him. 

It strikes her that that might be counterproductive. 

She settles back into the vee of his legs, closing her eyes and signing a contented sigh as he rubs the washcloth over her body. He starts on one shoulder, traces his way down her arm, onto her hip and lower down, as far as he can reach. Then, lifting the washcloth, he goes to her other shoulder, repeats the same path slowly, carefully, achingly. Her belly is next, slow circles traced around her navel, against her hips and up to her sternum and back down. Then back to her shoulders and down her arms and he repeats each step until her body arches against him and her hand clenches on his arm. 

"Please," she whispers, need thrumming through her and the smile that curves his lips is nothing short of filthy. 

"You just had to ask." His voice, low and amused, sends a sharp burst that's somewhere between pleasure and want shooting right to her core. That, however, is nothing to how good it feels he finally - finally - circles one of her breasts with the washcloth, the nubby material and the smooth foam combining to send her almost into sensory overload. She bites her lip to keep back a whimper but that becomes damn near impossible the longer he makes those long, slow circles. 

And when he rubs the washcloth over one of her nipples, it just becomes impossible. 

His name is a gasp from her lips and she feels him smiling as he presses his lips to the curve where her neck and shoulder meet. He sucks gently before worrying it with his teeth and her hips move of their own accord, bucking against him, sending the water splashing crazily from side to side. 

She opens her eyes - when had she shut them? - and meets his, dark and dilated with the same need she's feeling. 

"Joe." Her voice is hoarse, choked with want. "Please... touch me." 

He drops the washcloth with the tiniest of splashes, his hand snaking down her chest, past her navel before it finally vanishes in between her legs, exactly where she wants him. She moves her legs as wide apart as she can to grant him better access, arching her back as she holds onto his knees in a vain effort to gain some sort of leverage. She gasps with delight as his fingers find her clit, stroke it with the firm pressure that he knows she enjoys and she's so wet, so ready for him that she feels her pleasure start to coil and peak almost instantly.

She moans his name, hears him whisper, "Yeah, baby?" breathless against her neck and the strain in his voice tells her he's enjoying this as much as she is. 

"I'm close..." Hearing that, he speeds up his fingers, lips returning to her neck and it's good, it's so good and then...

Caitlin wakes up, gasping for air. 

She's in her bedroom, alone, as always and she puts her hand over her chest, feels her racing heart, feels wetness between her legs as she shifts position. It might have been just a dream - and she doesn't know when Joe's body replaced Ronnie, replaced Jay - but right now, her traitorous body doesn't know the difference. Closing her eyes, she lies back and slips her hand between her legs, mirrors the actions Joe was taking in her dream, imagines him there with her, his voice whispering in her ear. 

She comes seconds later, his name on her lips. 

When she comes back to herself, she forces her eyes open, reminds herself who she is, who he is, reminds herself that there are things that can never be, no matter how many dreams she has. 

But at least she has the dreams. 

For now, they are almost enough.


End file.
